


Broken Records and Scratched Vinyl (Doesn’t Sound Quite the Same)

by Broken_Clover



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Based on a Fan Theory, Catatonia, Gen, Jossed, Post-Canon, Self-Harm, THANKFULLY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: (I’m afraid of losing you, but I’m not sure how much left there is to lose)
Kudos: 4





	Broken Records and Scratched Vinyl (Doesn’t Sound Quite the Same)

**Author's Note:**

> I have spent so much time trying to finish this, it's such a huge relief to see this one finally done.
> 
> This is based on a theory (or at least an idea) of what happened to Axl post-Rev, since after his whole grand speech at the end he just kinda vanished and nobody acknowledged him at all. Granted, this was before Strive was announced, and we saw that everything seems pretty okay (and trust me, I'm glad this theory got jossed. It made me sad thinking about it)

Sol put the Junkyard Dog down on the coffee table, surrounded by the contents of the toolbox that had yet to be cleaned up and put away. After making sure all the nuts and bolts were screwed in where they were supposed to be, he stood up, wiping his grease-smeared hands off on the tail of his jacket.

“Axl, lunchtime.”

The figure by his side climbed off of the sofa as he was nudged, following behind with noiseless footsteps. Sol took him by the hand and lead him to the kitchen, only letting go when they reached the counter.

“I think we got some fish left over.” Said Sol, stepping away from the counter to dig through the icebox. “You like that, don’t you?”

Without waiting for a response, he pulled out an old container, half-filled with tuna salad, along with a carrot. “Guess it’s sandwiches today. Better eat this too, before it goes bad.”

A half-loaf of bread joined the food on the counter, along with a knife and a cutting board. Sol offered the latter two to his companion. “Mind cutting that carrot up while I make the sandwiches? Should be an easy job, I’m sure you can manage it.”

He got no response. When Axl didn’t take the knife from him, Sol slid it into his hand, pressing slightly to make sure it would hold. When he slid the board and carrot in front of him, Axl finally started moving, chopping the object slowly into chunks.

There weren’t many forks to be found when Sol pulled the drawer open. He grumbled to himself as the door slammed shut. At first, he was content with the idea of simply pulling a dirty one from the sink and wiping it off, but he could practically hear Ky’s nagging voice berating him to do the job proper. Sol reached for the soap and started scrubbing away. It was just a fork, he wondered what real damage it could do. Ky probably would have been glad to talk his ear off about germs and cleanliness, but mercifully for the time being, he was a long way away.

_’Wonder if he’s gonna try and talk me into coming back to Illyria again.’_ He thought. It hadn’t been very long since the last time, and he knew that Ky was never good at keeping himself out of other people’s business, especially if he wasn’t wanted there.

His sensitive nose picked up the sudden smell of iron, interrupting any other thoughts. Amber eyes snapped towards the source.

“Hey, stop, stop!” He yanked the knife away, immediately tossing the bloodstained blade into the sink. The carrots sat neatly cut on the board, drenched in red alongside a chunk of flesh that had been attached to Axl’s hand a moment ago.

Sol grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to the sink, dumping a torrent of warm water onto the wound. 

“Stay.”

There was no point in specifying. He knew it wouldn’t do anything. He chose not to think about it, instead pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet.

Red water swirled in the bottom of the basin. It seemed like an impossible amount of blood was gushing out from the spot where the tip of his finger was supposed to be, but Axl merely stared at it in silence. There was no more reaction to being pulled back out from under the sink to face the other man, who looked over his injury.

“Hold still, I gotta clean it out.”

That was the only resistance he got, a little pull away as he dabbed the edges of the slice. Sol was far stronger, though, just as he always was, and there was no real fight to be had. He simply wiped the blood away, plastered a bandage over the wound, and smoothed down the wrinkled edges.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

When he looked up from his handiwork, the only thing that greeted him was a pair of flat, dull eyes, without a spark of awareness anywhere within them. Sol wasn’t sure why he’d been expecting anything different.

“You...go sit.” He gave Axl a nudge towards the kitchen table. “Guess that’s a pass on the carrots. Don’t like ‘em that much, anyway.”

Axl took two steps and went stiff in place. Sighing, Sol gave him another nudge. Another two steps. Instead of trying again, he turned back to the counter. “Y’can wait with me then, I guess.”

The fork he’d been cleaning sat in the middle of the red water as it swirled into the drain. Sol wasn’t the cleanest person, but even he had standards. After looking around, he settled on a dusty rubber spatula. He wasn’t sure why he had it. He barely knew how to cook, let alone bake.

As he slapped the wet fish onto the bread, Sol glanced back over his shoulder. Axl was still standing where he had been. He hadn’t even turned around. It seemed that he never had any inclination to, unless guided along until the order stuck in his mind. Sol was half-convinced that the man would simply stand in place as he starved to death unless prompted to move. Not that he’d tried. He already had enough guilt with Axl just being alive, he didn’t need to think about making things worse.

He should have seen it coming. Really, he should have expected something bad was going to happen. He’d been so caught up in the moment, feeling the sort of hope that he hadn’t felt in over a century, that he hadn’t bothered to think about it all. All he cared about was the fact that he’d be able to see Aria again. But Aria had left with a smile on her face, eager to see how the world had changed over the years, promising to be back soon, and Sol had been left alone with his thoughts and a man who could barely be considered alive.

He hadn’t really been wondering what had come of his acquaintance ever since the Saint Oratorio. It seemed so sudden, looking back on it all. He’d left Axl on the porch and hadn’t spoken to him since. Whatever he’d been up to until then was anyone’s guess. He definitely hadn’t been expecting for him to show up at the last possible moment, using abilities Sol didn’t even know he had to drag the world to a halt. They’d shared a few brief words, but after that, Sol had been too preoccupied with Aria and the Universal Will that he’d honestly forgotten about the whole thing until he had quite literally crashed into him months later.

Frankly, it would have been easier if Axl had just chewed him out for the whole thing. Sol was used to being shouted at, and in this case, he wouldn’t say that he didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t even bothered to look for him at all. The only reason Aria had managed to come back was because of his help, and Sol had simply taken her and walked away. Axl would have been justified to be upset with him for that, and Sol had braced himself for whatever angry curses would come out of his mouth.

But instead, all he’d gotten was silence. And that was the only response he ever got. The light in the man’s eyes had gone out, and Sol hadn’t heard him speak a single word ever since.

If only he had any idea what the problem really was. Even before, over a century ago, he hadn’t known much about the human mind. He knew that it was easy to damage and difficult to repair, and Axl was very, very damaged.

Sol slapped a slice of bread on the half-assed sandwich. Ky seemed to know more about healing minds than he did- or at least, he pretended to. Either way, it hadn’t stopped him from sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Sol should have known better than to let the king even realize anything. He was observant, Sol would give him that. He’d almost immediately noticed his abnormally-quiet and vacant-eyed companion and demanded Sol explain what sort of mess he’d gotten himself into this time.

There was only so much to explain. And as soon as he had tried, he’d immediately wished that he hadn’t.

_‘You don’t have to do this yourself.’_ Ky had said. _‘In fact, I’m not sure there’s much you can do. You’d be better off having him institutionalized rather than dragging him around the world with you into danger.’_

Ky had tried to rationalize it with flowery words and a gentle tone, but Sol had already stopped paying attention. From his perspective, it was obvious what he was trying to say- dump him off at the loony bin and get on with your life.

_‘Illyria has some of the best facilities in the world, I’m sure he’d be much better off there. I can promise that your friend would be taken care of.’_

It would have been the easier option- hell, it was probably the more logical one, too. But Sol had been confused and unsure, and he responded to those emotions with anger. So he’d knocked Ky on his ass and stormed out without another word spoken.

That had been the end of it, though not for Ky’s lack of trying. Sol could feel the incoming calls buzzing every other day, but he ignored them every time. Their conversation was over, and there was nothing more to say.

“Food’s ready.”

He carried the plates with one hand and used the other to nudge Axl towards the table. At least he responded to touches relatively easily, even if he wasn’t good with verbal orders. He didn’t usually resist to being guided or pulled around.

Damn it, the whole thing felt like some twisted joke. He had finally been able to atone for his original crime, and Aria had been gifted a second chance to live. Sol had felt the closest to peace that he had in nearly two centuries. And in the process of rectifying his mistake, he’d made another one, one that he had to stare at constantly and watch after closely or risk it getting killed and adding another item to the list of things that made him feel like a useless guilt-ridden jackass. Like he didn’t have enough.

The tuna was bland. Sol dropped the rest of it back on the plate.

“Can’t get any good shit in this neck of the woods.” He grumbled, to nobody in particular. 

He noticed that Axl hadn’t moved to eat. All he did was stare at the wall, motionless and stiff.

“You can eat, y’know.”

Axl didn’t twitch.

Sol gave him a glare. “I’m not feeding you again. I know you can do it.”

He knew he wouldn’t get a reply, and yet it still aggravated him. He all but shoved the sandwich into Axl’s hand and forced him to raise it up to his face, mashing it against lips that didn’t part. “Just eat the fucking sandwich! Dammit, this isn’t difficult!”

Despite his best efforts, the tuna slipped out and splattered on the table in a sad lump, with the half-squished bread tumbling down a moment later.

Sol watched it go. What on earth was he doing? He’d barely been able to handle Sin, and he was durable and at least knew the basics of looking after himself. He’d never had to make a human being do something like feed themselves or stop them from cutting their own fingers off. How could he be able to manage something like that constantly? And for what? Watching him wither away with time and die anyway? 

Before he realized it, Sol was out of his chair and leaning across the table. Rough, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around an unguarded throat, bearing down in the fragile bones and cartilage beneath the skin. It would be easy. With the strength he had, it would be so easy to finish the job. It could be over for the both of them. No waiting. No more pain. He could make it quick, and then it would all be over.

Axl didn’t do anything but stare. The muscles instinctively twitched from how they were being constricted, but the man didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Didn’t resist at all. Did he even know what was happening to him? Did he feel any fear? Did he even know how to do that anymore?

Despite himself, Sol felt his grip loosening, the rage stewing in his blood congealing into despair.

“I…” Defeated, he slumped back into his chair. He buried his head in his hands. “...I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.”

Staring at an empty husk of a human being only made him more agitated. It was some combination of anger at himself for causing it, at Axl for being a goddamn boyscout and jumping in to help, at Ky for trying to put his nose in where he damn well knew it didn’t belong, and at the whole world altogether for making his life more difficult and fucking over just about everyone that decided to get close to him.

At the same time, though, he couldn’t turn it into the anger he wanted. It was just frustration, doused with just enough despair and guilt to leave the weight sitting heavily on his back. Sol couldn’t manage real anger anymore. He was just too tired.

There was barely anything in the cupboards, and even less that would be adequate for a three-day travel. 

“We’ll go to the market for road supplies, and then we’re going to Illyria.”

He didn’t know why he’d bothered saying it aloud. What was he expecting?

++++++

It was tricky balancing the pen and paper in one hand, but Sol managed. Under normal circumstances, he would have foregone the whole idea, but he wanted to be thorough this time around and not run out of food halfway through the trip and forcing him to forage for wild animals.

He had considered digging up the old leash that he’d used back when Sin was little, but he realized something like that would attract a lot of unwanted attention, and he already got enough of that. Pulling Axl along by the hand seemed like the most subtle option, even if it was inconvenient. 

“Got the jerky.” Sol said to himself, sliding a paper-wrapped package over his shoulder and into his rucksack. “Now just need water.”

It wasn’t going to be the cleanest route, but it was the fastest. Sol had charted it out over the years and knew it would be twice as fast as the best bus route. But they still needed to eat during it. He didn’t trust most of the water sources that the path went near, so as much of a pain in the ass carrying around canteens was, it was necessary.

Someone bumped into him on his other side, hard. Sol took a deep breath, willing away the urge to shove them back twice as hard. Just his luck he’d managed to show up right around rush hour. It felt like the entire town was out buying their groceries. The sheer amount of people pushing and shoving with reckless abandon was wearing down his already-tested patience. As satisfying as it would have been to punch a few lights out, he’d get an assault charge slapped on him before he could blink. He didn’t give a shit about a criminal record under most circumstances, but the police would absolutely take Axl into custody, and if Sol could even explain the situation before he got lost in the infinite maze of bureaucracy, there was no chance in hell he’d be able to convince them to hand him back over.

Sol grit his teeth, calmly weaving through the crowd.

“Canteen, canteen...shit, all these damn stalls and no fucking canteens?”

He didn’t realize his grip was tightening. In his annoyance, and his inability to take it out on the people around him, it manifested in the only way his mind subconsciously thought of. Sol didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until he heard something crunch, and the hand he was holding onto shifted.

“Oh, shit-” His eyes snapped open, and he twisted around in place. A few people bumped into him with the sudden shift in direction, but Sol ignored the dirty looks and muttered complaints to cup a set of mangled fingers in his palm. _“Shiiiit.”_

While not the most gentle with his handling at times, Sol had never outright broken any of his bones until now. Or...had he? Not like Axl had ever said anything if he did.

Sol tried not to think about that. Instead, he busied himself trying to figure out how to pop the joints back into place without overdoing it and breaking every single bone in Axl’s hand in the process. Gears weren’t made for delicate work, they were made for being big and smashy and breaking things effectively. How ironic.

Adding to the difficulty was the fact that the joints were already turning pale and swelling. And all of the pulling and prodding to try and fix them on his own seemed to have hurt enough that it managed to get a reaction, with the other man trying to pull away from the thing that was hurting him. It only made things even more troublesome as Sol tried to keep a loose enough grip as to not crush anything else, but strong enough that he could keep Axl from wincing away from the one thing that was keeping him from being pushed around in a sea of people

Sol didn’t know how to be comforting. Not that Axl had ever complained before. But he really needed to know it now, in whatever it would take to get through the twisted, snapped-off pathways in his head to make him understand that Sol wasn’t trying to hurt him.

“Listen to me.” In a moment of frustration, Sol let go of his hand and latched onto either side of his head, glaring intently into ever-dull eyes. “You need to work with me here. I’m trying to _fix_ this. Can you just let me do that?! Can something just go right for once?!”

It was stupid for him to even ask. Why was not getting a reaction so much more frustrating? He could think of so many times where he’d wished that Axl would just shut his mouth and stop jabbering about whatever had caught his attention. How was this worse?!

“Say _something!_ Yes or no! For fuck’s sake, open your damn mouth and say something!”

Something hard slammed into the back of his head. The world vanished into white for a moment, until Sol was able to focus again. He turned to glare and bark a curse at whatever had hit him, which appeared to be a harried woman with a large bag hanging over her shoulder.

“S-sorry!” She shouted over the bustle of the crowd. “Didn’t see you!”

Sol was going to shout something else, but he suddenly remembered where he was. When he turned back around, he was only able to catch a brief glimpse of blonde before Axl vanished into the crowd.

_“SHIT!”_ He immediately abandoned any of his prior carefulness and began haphazardly shoving people out of his way. The shocked cries and protests of people were drowned out as Sol continued to curse and shout. _“AXL!”_

Nobody seemed to have an interest in making his job easier. Sol could hardly see anything. He couldn’t even tell what direction he was going in. He didn’t have the ability to think about it. 

_“OUT OF MY WAY!”_

Why didn’t anybody understand? Every time he was pushed or interrupted was precious moments lost. He had no idea how far away Axl could get on his own. He didn’t want to know. He refused to find out.

“Hey, jackass! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A hand grabbed him by the shoulder, interrupting his run. Sol lashed back to jab them in the ribs with an elbow, breaking back into his stilted sprint as a pained yell sounded behind him.

Shit, how could he get out? Trying to find one person while wading through a crowd was useless. Maybe it would be easier to see if he could get out. All it was doing was making it harder to think, overloading his racing mind with sounds and lights and smells to process instead of focusing on what he needed to.

“You! Man in the red jacket, stop!”

Sol groaned inwardly. His irritation turned into panic when he noticed his latest interruption was sporting an IPF badge and a very unpleasant expression. This wasn’t something he could just shake off.

Though it didn’t stop him from trying. Maybe if he could get far enough away, the cop would lose sight of him and decide it wasn’t worth it to keep trying to hunt him down. Hell, who even could say if that was supposed to be him? Red was a common color, he couldn’t be sure-

“Red jacket, green bag, dark hair! Stop this instant and put your hands where I can see them!”

Of course. Of-fucking- _course_. Had that guy complained about getting whacked in the ribs? Whatever, Sol didn’t care what or why. He just needed to ditch the cop and find Axl.

The crowd somehow grew even thicker. All movement slowed, making it impossible for him to simply push people out of the way and move on. Was there a traffic jam? A crazy-ass line for a stall? He couldn’t see over the crowd to make anything out. Nor could he make out anything from all the damn talking.

The officer was getting closer, and Sol could see him gripping the handle of a sheathed sword. If he didn’t do what the guy said pretty much at that moment, it was clear he’d have no hesitation in pulling it out.

At any other time, literally any other time in his life, he wouldn’t have cared. He could handle some podunk cop any day of the week, but not now. The sight of him made his heart race in the worst way.

“Don’t you dare run away!”

Sol was running out of options. He gave a few hard shoves, but it only got him a few inches further and a loud complaint, no matter what direction he tried to push in. Why the fuck couldn’t anyone get out of his way?? Axl could have been a mile away by that point, who knew where he was or how he’d gotten there. Sol’s chest felt tight, either from stress or from the number of people packed together like sardines, and there was a rare moment when the movement and noise and sensations made him want to keel over and throw up. Were the splotches of white real, or were they part of the headache? He could feel his heart beating in his ears, still not quite enough to block out the crowd.

His hand fell on the metal suppressor. The cool metal let a single coherent idea make it through his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken it off. But he was so desperate that he clung onto it and yanked, ripping right through the metal buckles and thick leather straps to tear it off of his face.

_**”GRAAAH!”** _

Blazing heat coursed through him. Sol didn’t resist or try to fight it off. He knew he had to keep some hold on his mind and not let the frenzied voices take over, but he let the transformation take its course at record speed, melting his skin to reveal glowing red scales and razor-sharp talons. Without wasting a second, he spread his tattered wings and took off, knocking over half a dozen people with one sweep, including the officer pursuing him.

The man looked up at the beast that had looked human moments ago, eyes widening in horror. 

“Oh, God…”

The sight of a Gear flying overhead was the one thing that managed to get everyone’s attention all at once. Adults screamed, children burst into tears. Stalls were knocked over as people tried to run. The sheer amount of noise made horses buck in their stalls and attached to their carts, whinnying and galloping off in a frenzy.

But that was it. That was all he could see. Sol let out a frustrated roar, diving down to skim over the crowd and get a better look. It only made things more hectic, and anyone within fifty feet began running even faster away from him. He alighted on an abandoned fruit stand, yellow eyes snapping back and forth. Nothing, nothing-

Sol nearly missed the sight of a panicked horse running towards him. He took flight again a half-moment before it crashed into the stall and trampled everything, sending the whole mess collapsing onto it. Sol didn’t bother taking a moment to check and make sure it was alright. He couldn’t afford to care.

Nothing, nothing, no, a vague resemblance, nothing, nothing, nothing-

His eyes practically zoomed in on something in the distance. Sol flew off towards it. He didn’t care about any of the people who fled from him. The person he was looking for likely didn’t have the instinct to do that. So when he got close enough, he watched them run off in terror, while a single figure stayed obliviously still.

“AXL!” Sol shouted, beating his wings harder. All the pushing and shoving had gotten him ridiculously far away from where he’d been, no wonder it was so hard to find him. Axl appeared to lack any concern for his current predicament, merely shuffling a few steps in the opposite direction whenever someone bumped into him, trying to escape.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY! DON’T GET DRAGGED OFF AGAIN!” He realized that it was impossible to make his voice louder than the rest of the hysteria. And even if he could, not like he responded to words anyway. All he could do was grab him off the ground and fly away before the situation could get any worse.

Sol dove, without thought and far too early. He made it about halfway before a cow thundered by, nearly goring him on its horns. He just managed to recover, heading back into the sky and growling with frustration as the stupid beast ran away. At least the streets were slowly clearing out as people escaped to safety. Less people meant less obstacles, though there were still plenty to avoid. 

Plenty was far too many, in his opinion. Switching forms meant that everything had become louder, and adrenaline could only do so much. The chaos made it difficult to keep his attention. 

He had enough wits about him to notice something coarse wrapping around his ankle. But not enough to recognize what it was or what it meant, not until something was yanking on him to the point where it knocked his wings out of alignment and he began falling. _Rope,_ someone had thrown a rope on him-

Sol caught himself before he hit the ground. He could make out IPF uniforms on the other end of the rope. Just his luck. That bastard probably called in backup. He managed to grab onto it with one hand and yank, knocking the man off-balance, but there were two others standing behind him, latching on as soon as he let go

There was probably a way he could have gotten himself out of the situation without killing anyone, but his patience was far past thin and he lacked the ability to care. Rather than trying to fly off again, he doubled back, racing towards the men and extending his talons out to sink into the nearest one, one of the two holding onto his tether.

As soon as he was within reaching distance, something shiny and metal flashed in the corner of his eye. Before his claws could meet flesh, a long rod was jammed into his unprotected chest, followed a moment later by hundreds of volts of lightning magic being dumped right into his body, making his muscles snap taut and his spine bend like a bowstring.

**_“KRAAAAH!”_ **

It wasn’t lethal, not to him, but it was enough to fry his brain out for a few valuable moments. As soon as he tried to take off again, more ropes looped around his limbs, making him crash back into the ground.

“We won’t let you get away, monster!” One of them shouted. Sol still felt fuzzy. His limbs twitched as he tried to rip through the rope. He could still make out Axl in the distance, blissfully unaware of the madness around him. Dammit, he was so close, but still too far away to reach.

Another jolt of electricity, weaker but no less disorienting was delivered into his back. A sword’s blow followed, too weak to do much more than leave a nasty sting. Why was it so hard to get a grip on a stupid piece of rope!?

“This’ll teach you to attack innocent people!” A shadow fell over him. Sol couldn’t make himself turn to see it properly, but for a moment, he swore he felt cold fear.

“Shit, get down-!”

Anything after that was indecipherable beyond a noisy screech. As soon as he was able to realize that the ropes had gone loose, he saw a chestnut blur. A horse galloped by, decorated by a torn bridle. It ignored him entirely in favor of fleeing, and Sol held his breath as it managed to skim past Axl without touching him.

Sol looked back in the direction that the animal had come from. One of the officers was curled up on the ground, arms grabbing at his chest, and another was motionless. Sol didn’t bother wasting time asking questions. All he did was praise whatever deity there was for his luck and grab at his tangled bindings.

Pressed against the ground, He could feel something rattling. He ignored it at first, but quickly noted that it was swiftly becoming louder and faster, as though approaching. He snapped his attention back again, finding nothing in Axl’s direction but noticing a distant smear from the other way. It didn’t seem alive, but it was moving awfully quickly-

The officers suddenly became much more concerned with getting out of the road than they were with him. What the hell was going on? 

The smell of wood and animal musk invaded his nose. Sol recognized the matching brown of a horse, snugly tethered while the other half of a broken bridle flapped at its side. The lack of balance made the wagon it was attached to made it swing and careen as it tore down the road as fast as it could possibly muster.

And Sol also became painfully aware of where it was headed.

Scythe-sharp claws scrabbled at the dirt, attempting to get a good enough grip to stand up. A few ropes tore from the sheer strain, and he far-too-slowly inched towards the side of the street. He wanted to fly out of danger, but his wings were tangled and he couldn’t force them to fold out properly without it hurting. They couldn’t have broken his wings, could they? 

A hysterical laugh bubbled out of his throat. So much effort trying to make him unbreakable, and he was so easily taken out of commission with a few hits. 

Horse hooves and wagon wheels managed to get his attention back. Sol made one last pitiful drag, hearing the noise grow louder and closer until it-

-...completely passed him.

Wait.

No.

Panicked energy flooded him, harder than it had ever before. Wings or no wings, Sol tore through the remainder of the rope easily and staggered to his feet. 

“No!”

Time slid to a halt as he turned. The crowd was all but gone, but Axl hadn’t moved a muscle. His eyes held no concern for the wagon currently barreling towards him.

_“NO!”_

How did he make himself go faster?! For the love of god why couldn’t he just see the damn thing why couldn’t he just _get out of the way-_

_“MOVE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, **MOVE!!”**_

For a moment, right before the wagon could hit its mark, Sol could swear that Axl was smiling.


End file.
